


Lifeline

by julienwrites



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Allergic reaction, Allergies, Anaphylaxis, Brettsey-focused, F/M, Family Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Conditions, Protective Severide, Sickfic, Through the Years, brettsey, dawsey, mentions of vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29007297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julienwrites/pseuds/julienwrites
Summary: Everything happens at once. Ice floods his veins, his lips start buzzing and tingling, his cheeks turn red, face grows hot, his mouth itches. The taste is acidic on his tongue as he drops the smoothie onto the floor of the firehouse, the liquid spilling everywhere. Everyone snaps their head to look at him.“Captain?”
Relationships: Matthew Casey/Gabriela Dawson, Matthew Casey/Hallie Thomas, Stella Kidd/Kelly Severide, Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Comments: 14
Kudos: 92





	Lifeline

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rainbow_Trout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbow_Trout/gifts).



> This fic is for Rainbow_Trout, who requested a Brettsey allergy fic. I made it a through the years type of idea, but the largest, most focused part of the fic is the end with Sylvie and Matt. 
> 
> There will be medical inaccuracies. While I do have some some knowledge about medical procedures and the like, I am in no means an actual doctor, and all of the dosages are just me finding things out on the internet. His last reaction is loosely based on me after having a surgery and waking up in anaphylactic shock. 
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys, and please let me know if you like it or have any requests! :) And as always, thank you E, my incredible friend who lets me bounce ideas off of her and gives her input and ideas to everything I write! -Julien

**ONE**

The first time it happens, he’s four years old. They’re at a breakfast place, and Christie orders fruit. It’s different than usual, mostly mangos, coconut shavings, pineapple, even bananas. Matt’s never had anything but banana before, so he takes his fork and swipes a piece of pineapple, popping it in his mouth before his sister can get annoyed. It tingles, and the little blonde frowns. 

“Mommy, my mouth feels funny..” 

Nancy Casey looks up from cutting a waffle, smiling. “That’s normal honey, pineapple is tart,” she explains.

The answer seems to placate the boy, but the feeling doesn’t stop. He’s not sure he likes pineapple very much. Instead, Matt focuses on his pancake, taking a pre-cut bite, giggling as Gregory steals fruit from Christie too, who’s now huffing. 

“It’s  _ my _ fruit!” 

“Oh? I thought we were sharing,” Greg winks at Matt, who nods. 

“Sharing is good!” 

By the third bite of his pancake, Matt’s stomach starts to hurt, and instead of continuing to eat, he crawls into the older man’s lap. “Daddy, my tummy hurts.” 

Gregory frowns and pushes back the four year olds hair, feeling his forehead. No fever. The rest of the time at the restaurant is spent with Matt curled up on his father, and Christie rolling her eyes, telling Matt he’s being a baby. It’s not until they’re in the car and Matt throws up all over himself in his car seat that Christie feels bad. She tells him they can read the ninja turtles book he got for Christmas.

Hours later, he’s back to normal. 

\+ + +

**TWO**

Matt’s nine and Christie’s twelfth birthday party is Hawaiian themed. Everyone’s in floral shirts, and leis are being given out. He thinks it’s cool to an extent, but he’d rather be reading or playing outside, since he’s the only boy besides his dad. 

There’s a multitude of snacks, and as Matt’s going down the line with a paper plate that read ‘Happy Birthday’ on a beach, Nancy comes up behind him. 

“Have some fruit with whatever else you pick Matthew,” she smiles, and Matt nods, picking up a small cupcake. He’ll take the frosting off before he eats it, not liking how sweet it is. Approaching the fruit, the boy chooses strawberries and blueberries, and then, after debating, he spoons a couple pieces of pineapple onto his plate too, deciding to give it another try. 

He eats his frosting-less cupcake, the little turkey sandwich and his blueberries, then takes a small chunk of pineapple and eats it, scrunching his nose up in dislike for the bitter fruit. His lips get that tingly feeling again, but this time it spreads through his whole mouth, even down his throat. It makes him cough and clear his throat. It helps marginally. 

A few minutes later, Matt finds himself throwing up in their downstairs bathroom, stomach aching. His mouth still feels weird, and he feels oddly weak, like when he’d been sick with the flu a few months back. In his haste to get to the bathroom, he’d not locked the door, too preoccupied with not vomiting on the floor. 

As he sits on the tile, the door opens and Christie frowns at the scene. Her little brother’s sitting next to the toilet, his face flushed, a tiny bit of sick on his shirt she’d picked out for him days earlier. 

“ _ Matt _ ...what happened...are you okay?” She scrambles down next to him, looking worried. 

“I don’t feel s’good…” he slurs, though it’s barely noticeable. She feels his forehead, but it doesn’t seem warm. 

“I’m going to go get mom...are you okay to be alone for a second?” 

“Y-Yeah…” Matt nods, but then he’s moving and getting sick again, and Christie rubs her brothers back like their mom’s done for the both of them before. When he stops, she grabs the hand towel next to the sink and wipes his mouth for him. He looks infinitely younger than nine. 

“I’ll be right back Matty.” 

Christie comes back with Nancy in tow, the woman looking upset. Her face softens into sympathy when she sees her so. 

“Oh _Matt_ , I’m sorry you’re feeling sick. You think we can get you upstairs to lay down?” 

As he climbs into bed in sweatpants and his favorite transformers shirt on, he looks at Nancy, feeling tired. “My lips still feel funny.” 

At the confused look it earns him, Matt swallows. “I ate the pineapple and my lips got tingly, but they still feel weird. My whole mouth does…” 

She walks over and sits on his bed, inspecting his face for a moment before humming in thought. “Maybe we can get you allergy tested, you might be allergic to it. Just rest okay? And I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” 

Matt nods and gives her a tiny smile, feeling his eyes shut before he can even decide to sleep. 

Two weeks later, he gets told he’s allergic to cats, mold, dust and pineapple. With the way he’s reacted to the fruit before, the allergist gives Matt an epipen and shows him how to use it.  _ Blue to the sky, orange to the thigh.  _

\+ + +

**THREE**

Matt’s in Academy, training to become a firefighter. He, Andy and Kelly are becoming friends quickly, and one night they go out to a local cafe to grab food before heading back to their apartment, too tired to try and make anything. 

By the time their food arrives, all three men are ravenous. Matt works on his sandwich, watching as Andy shovels pasta salad into his mouth and Severide drinks his soda. 

“Mind if I steal a blueberry?” Matt asks, gesturing to the fruit bowl Andy has. When he gets a nod, Matt spears the fruit with his fork and eats it. The feeling is instantaneous. Looking quickly, Matt sees a lone piece of pineapple sitting where the blueberry had obviously been covering it. Swallowing, the blonde can feel his mouth and lips tingling. He stands quickly, making the two men sitting with him jump. 

“I n-need to go to my truck,” Matt explains poorly, his only thought on being close to his epipen. He’s not sure why, but this time seems worse already. His throat feels oddly tight, making him cough as he walks to his truck that’s parked close by. He’s unaware of Kelly and Andy following him. Coughing more, Matt gets his door open and reaches into the glove compartment, scratching at his arm when he pulls the piece of plastic out. 

“Dude what’s happening?” Kelly asks, eyes wide as he notes the red splotches on Matt’s arms, how terrified his best friend looks. 

Andy sees the epipen and swears under his breath. “He’s having an allergic reaction.” 

Swallowing convulsively,the youngest clears his throat and coughs yet again, trying to take deep breaths. Every time he’s exposed to pineapple, it’s going to be a worse reaction, the allergist had explained over 10 years ago. 

Though he doesn’t take the epi, Matt’s driven to the ER and monitored for over six hours to make sure he doesn’t have a worse reaction. When Andy takes him back to their place, Matt snorts, seeing that hanging on their fridge, is a printed out photo of a pineapple, with a large red slash through it. 

“Courtesy of Severide,” Andy grins. Of course it is. 

\+ + +

**FOUR**

His fourth encounter is at the annual CFD picnic. Everyone’s out having a good time, there’s beer and burgers and Matt’s happy to be enjoying the warm and sunny day with Hallie and their friends. Andy’s brought Heather, and even Severide has a girl tagging along. The day is full of eating and talking, and Matt and Andy play some soccer with the Darden and Herrmann boys. Matt gets his knees grass stained in the process, arm scraped up from a good block by Kenny James. It’s a quick reminder he’s no longer in his early twenties, and even at twenty nine, he feels older than he should. 

Taking a break, the recently promoted Lieutenant heads back over with Andy to where Hallie and Heather are talking, Shay and Severide sitting close by. Matt gives both women a questioning look, gesturing to Severide. 

“Lauren said she had to leave, something about her ex being in jail?” Hallie smirked, Matt wincing.

“Damn, that sucks,” Andy chimes in, shaking his head. “At least he’s got Shay to keep him company.” 

The day starts to wind down, sun lowering slowly in the sky, when Griffin Darden comes running up, clothes dirty and hair a little sweaty from playing. 

“Uncle Matt! I got you the last brownie!” Matt looks up from where he’s talking to Cruz and Otis, smiling. 

“Thanks Bud! Looks delicious,” he says as he takes the brownie. Griffin runs off and Hallie kisses his cheek. 

“He doesn’t know you’re not a big sweets fan?” 

“Nope. But now I have to eat it. It was the last one,” Matt laughs, taking a bit. It’s not terribly sweet like he’d imagined, but there’s an odd taste on the bottom, almost sticky, and then it hits him, right as his mouth starts feeling itchy and his lips start tingling. 

Griffin was eating pineapple earlier, and his hands must have still had juice on them.  _ Shit _ . 

“I need my epipen,” Matt speaks quickly, already getting up. He’s instantly dizzy, and he coughs. For the first time, he can physically feel his throat starting to swell, and terror washes through him. 

Everyone’s eyes are on him, as the people around him spring into action. Andy’s grabbing Shay and Severide, as Hallie grabs her bag. Otis and Cruz start pulling crowd control, and Boden and Herrmann are jogging over, seeing the commotion. 

Shay moves him back down until he’s lying on his back in the grass, trying desperately to get a breath. His cheeks are flushed and he’s sweating, arms covered in pink blotches. His lips have swollen slightly. 

“I c-can’t…” he struggles, hand going to his chests 

“It’s okay honey, stay with me,” Hallie says softly, uncapping the epipen. Shay’s already calling 911, one hand on his leg. Andy and Sev are both hovering worriedly. 

There’s a sudden jab in his thigh and a moment later his heart is racing, but air is slowly starting to return to his lungs, and he can hear a siren in the distance. 

\+ + +

**FIVE**

Four months into dating Gabby, reaction number five happens. She’d not been there for what Andy had affectionately named ‘the picnic from hell’, so she has no reason to know he can’t have pineapple. Matt doesn’t think about the fact food allergies are something people should know about- pineapple is obvious for the most part anyway. All the kids that are involved in 51’s families know now not to eat pineapple when Matt’s around. 

Stepping inside, Matt’s hit with the smell of some kind of Latin American food, spicy and delicious. He can feel his stomach rumbling as he takes off his work boots, dirty from helping fix a busted pipe outside for one of his clients. Seeing Gabby standing over the oven, Matt hums happily. They take turns most nights on who cooks, sometimes both of them doing it together. It was technically his night, but then he’d gotten the call and of course he wasn’t going to say no to Mrs.Jansen, so he supposes he’ll just cook two nights in a row to make up for it. 

“Hey baby,” the firefighter says, putting his boots away and making his way over to his girlfriend. “Whatever you’re making, please make it every night. It smells  _ amazing _ .” He punctuates the last word with a kiss to the back of her neck, arms wrapping around her from behind. The woman cranes her neck and grins. 

“It’s pork fajitas, with a Hawaiin corn salsa,” she explains. The word Hawaiin goes right over his head, barely hearing it as he takes in the food. God it looks delicious. “Go shower and change, then it should be ready.” 

Matt turns and receives a playful smack on his ass, making him laugh. By the time he’s back out, clean and in fresh clothes, hair still damp, the food is on the table, two beers at their plates. 

Sitting down, the Lieutenant looks at all the food and sighs contentedly. “How was your day?” He starts working on picking up the tortilla that’s holding what looks like pork, corn, sauce and cheese. 

“It was good, went for a run, talked to my mo-“ She’s cut off by a quiet, strangled noise. 

Matt takes one large bite of the fajita and drops it, heart racing already. 

“Gabby I have an epipen in my bag, I need it  _ now _ . I’m really allergic to pineapple.” The second sentence starts fading into coughs by the end, hands shaking as he clears his throat, trembling. He shuts his eyes, feeling dizzy and hot, and nauseous. Thank god Gabby is a paramedic. 

Though worried, Gabby jumps into action, going to the bag Matt carries most places and quickly dumping the contents on the floor. Seeing the plastic injector, she runs back to where her boyfriend is now sitting on the floor, making a sound she hopes she never has to hear again in her lifetime, wheezy and strained. 

“I’m sorry baby,” she says with a small smile, popping the cap off and then injecting the needle firmly into Matt’s thigh, watching closely as he starts to breathe slightly better, the whistle quieting down as he gets just a bit more air in. His face is blotchy and red, the hives going down his neck and she’s sure onto his torso. 

The moment Matt’s able to take in a deep breath of air, he coughs and then vomits down himself, Gabby wincing. “It’s okay Matt, you’re okay,” she assures, voice anxious as she calls 911 and gives the bare minimum of what she knows the operators need to know. Anaphylaxis, 3199 Barrington Rd, trained paramedic with 32 year old victim. Need immediate transport to Chicago Med. 

The paramedics that Gabby thinks she’s seen around get there right as Matt starts to need epinephrine again. 

\+ + +

**SIX**

Naomi is a fun distraction, and the reason he has his sixth reaction. Matt knows nothing is actually going to come of their relationship. It’s just a fling, something to numb the hurt of Gabby leaving, he doesn’t see a real future with her, and she seems to feel the same way from what he can tell. Their first kiss is surprising, but Matt jumps in, deciding he’s earned this, earned something fun. 

They’re back at his place, a small apartment that he’d found two weeks after Gabby had left. The thought of staying in a place that held so many memories; good and bad, had made his skin crawl, so he’d gone and found a small apartment in Wicker Park. It was different than anything he’d ever owned or rented, and it was a nice change. 

Moving close, a movie playing in the background, Matt smiles at her and their lips connect. It takes approximately nine seconds for his lips to start feeling that unpleasant, stomach dropping sensation, and he pulls back instantly. 

“Did y-you eat pineapple?” Matt stands almost instantly, going to grab his bag, leaving Naomi confused. 

“My lip balm is an all natural one that’s pineapple...why? Are you okay?” 

Matt shakes his head and finds the epipen, taking in a wheezy, clipped off breath. “M’allergic. Need y’to call 911,” he tries to explain, shakily taking the pen out of the holder. He’s never actually done this himself, and he hopes he’s doing it right, making sure the blue cap is away from him before taking it off. Coughing, he’s barely aware of Naomi hysterically talking on her phone, as firmly hits the middle of his thigh with the plastic, the orange tip hitting his jeans and then skin. 

Feeling hazy, Matt remembers to keep the injector in place for three seconds as he struggles to breathe, then rubs at his thigh while the medicine starts taking effect. 

“Someone’s getting sent. You’re going to be okay,” she assures, sitting him on the ground. Matt rubs at his chest, knowing hives are probably everywhere. Definitely not how he’d planned the night to go. Maybe he’s not supposed to have nice things. 

\+ + +

**SEVEN**

It’s a cold day in Chicago when Matt has his Seventh reaction. Shift has been unusually slow for truck and squad, and he wishes it was slow for ambo too. Sylvie and Mackey have been gone for three hours thanks to back to back calls, and he’s selfishly ready to see his paramedic in charge come through the apparatus doors. The Captain spends the next hour half listening to Herrmann talk about Molly’s with Kidd and Mouch, and half working on a crossword puzzle. He’s caught up on paperwork, and though he’s thought about running some drills, it’s too cold out for him to actually follow through. 

Setting his newspaper down, Matt looks up at the sound of the bay doors moving upward. Sylvie. Standing, he tries not to be too obvious as he slowly makes his way out onto the app floor, smiling as he sees 61 pull in, windshield wipers cutting off, snow frozen to the metal rig. He’s aware all of Squad 3 is sitting at their table, bundled up in their heavy bomber jackets, watching him. 

When he sees Sylvie and Mackey hop out, he takes it as his queue to make it over. Everyone knows they’re dating, have been for a few months now, but he’s not going to focus on that here. At work, they’re professional. He’d messed that up last time and it had ended with divorce. He wants to do it right this time. But being professional doesn’t mean he can’t steal the quickest possible kiss behind the ambo, at least, that’s what he tells himself, as he round the corner. 

“How was the call?” 

The petite blonde is sipping on a smoothie in a large, see through cup, the liquid a yellow-ey orange. Grinning, Sylvie shrugs, leaning against her door. 

“It was good. Nothing too gruesome. And we got smoothies on the way back, which is a total win. You want some? It’s called ‘island paradise’.” The smile she sends makes Matt feel weak at the knees. 

“Sure, sounds...tropical,” he scrunches his nose up as they walk across the floor. Matt‘s sad he’s missed the chance to kiss her...at least until they’re in his office, he reminds himself. Maybe they’re not being as professional as they could be. Crossing over the threshold to the common room, Matt takes a sip of the smoothie. 

Everything happens at once. Ice floods his veins, his lips start buzzing and tingling, his cheeks turn red, face grows hot, his mouth itches. The taste is acidic on his tongue as he drops the smoothie onto the floor of the firehouse, the liquid spilling everywhere. Everyone snaps their head to look at him. 

“Captain?” Gallo. 

“More like butterfingers.” Kidd. 

“No use crying over spilled smoothie.” Herrmann. 

“Matt...are you okay?” Sylvie. 

He tries to suck in a breath, but it’s already harder than it had been last time. His breaths turn frantic and he tries to talk. 

“Need m’epipen…” 

Herrmann jumps up, ready to run and grab it, but Mackey’s shaking her head, already moving. 

“Take him to the ambo,” she orders, and Sylvie suddenly snaps back into life, trying to make her brain slip into PIC mode. Herrmann and Gallo are instantly at the Captains side, helping him out to the rig. When they pass through the doors, Severide jumps up. 

“What the  _ hell _ happened?!” 

“Anaphylactic reaction,” Herrmann offers, letting Sylvie help them get him up on the gurney. Severide’s by his side instantly, watching his best friend struggle for air, face red and lips swollen.

“Who gave him pineapple? Doesn’t everyone know he’s not supposed to have it?” 

Sylvie’s focused on helping Mackey get a line into Matt’s arm. 

“Pushing two cc’s of epi,” the young paramedic announces, injecting the medicine into the IV line when it’s securely in place. Matt, who’s been straining desperately for breath, eyes shut, slowly starts getting a real breath, and Mackey hops out, going to get in the driver's seat. 

“Kidd, can you ride with me? I don’t…” Sylvie tries to explain, but fails. She can’t very well admit she’s not sure if she can do her job well when it’s her boyfriend. It sounds stupid and childish. Kidd’s jumping in before Sylvie’s even finished her question. Severide looks like he wants to come too, but Herrmann holds him back and shuts the back doors, hitting them to allow Mackey to know to drive. 

He feels like he can’t breathe, even with the medicine. His head feels hazy and he tries to get another breath in, but it’s like a weight is on his chest. Matt keeps his eyes closed, scared this is going to be it. Even in the back of an ambulance with epinephrine running through him, it’s not helping like it has. His breaths wheeze in and out of him. Vaguely, he hears Kidd say something about pushing another cc of epi. Matt’s whole body itches, stomach twisting. Somehow, even with his throat barely letting air in, he manages to vomit, half on himself, and half of Sylvie, making him cough. He hears the word aspirate but it doesn’t register, body finally giving in to the tug of sleep, and soon he’s unconscious. 

Matt wakes up to commotion all around him, but the only thing he’s aware of is the fact he’s coughing and trying and trying and  _ trying _ to breathe. His body’s trembling, and he feels a mask on his face. Reaching a hand up, the firefighter starts to move it, hoping if the steam that’s being pumped into it and onto him goes away, it’ll help. His hand is stopped by someone. 

“Matt, Matt, you’re alright, your throat is closing, this is going to help. You’re okay,” a voice says, a man. 

Not fully registering, he tries to tug it off again, making a tiny noise. “I c-c’nt...b-bre-“ 

“Matt, you have to keep it on, it’s going to be okay. Try to take slow breaths. Listen to me...in...and out…” 

The Captain looks up from where he’s cross eyed, looking at the clear plastic against his face, to the man trying to help. He’s familiar, with red hair and a kind smile. He listens and tries this time, and it does little to help. 

“Keep going. Let the steam get into your throat and lungs. It’s okay…” 

Trying again, he does it a few times, and finally his airway starts to relax, enough that he sucks in more air, more epinephrine, and is brought back to earth. Halstead’s in front of him, coaching him patiently. Everything aches. His whole head feels heavy and he’s still nauseous. 

“S-Sylvie…” His throat feels raw, and even the small raspy whisper sets him back into coughing. 

“She’s out in the waiting room. Don't talk. Take more slow breaths Matt, just relax. I’ll get her back as soon as you can do that for me.” 

Doing as he’s told, desperate for the woman, he focuses solely on taking breaths, heart racing the whole time. Matt’s barely aware that his airway has started opening between the coughs and the feeling of needing to suck in as much air as possible. 

“Alright, good job Matt, now try and slow down. Take slower, more shallow breaths okay?”

Able to do so, his mask is taken off and replaced with a nasal cannula, giving him oxygen. Matt’s breaths shudder in and out, but he doesn’t feel like he’s dying anymore, and Halstead seems calmer. 

“ _ There _ we go. How are you feeling? Talk quietly,” the doctor assists, looking at a monitor behind him. April hands him a clipboard and he writes something down.

Matt blinks at Will and then coughs, shallow and raspy. “F-Feels tight…nauseous” he tries to explain, and the doctor nods, giving him a sympathetic smile. 

“It will for a bit. And your throat’s going to be sore. You’re going to feel shaky, but I’m hoping the midazolam will help some. I’ll get April to bring some zofran. You had a pretty bad reaction. I’m going to grab Sylvie okay?” 

Nodding, Matt looks down at himself once Halstead and April are gone. He’s shirtless, and assumes it’s been cut off. He doesn’t remember anything after waiting for Sylvie and Mackey to get back. Swallowing, the Captain clears his throat and fidgets, taking in air through the cannula slowly. His arms still have raised welts on them, and he’s got 2 IV lines inserted- one near the crook of his elbow, the other on the back of his hand. Before he can observe much more, Sylvie’s rushing through the curtain, Halstead close behind. 

“ _ Matt… _ ” 

She’s been crying. He can tell by how blotchy and red her face is. As she gets closer, he sees tear tracks still fading. Sylvie runs a hand through his hair and his eyes shut automatically at the comforting motion. 

“M’okay…” he gives her what he’s sure is the most pathetic, unconvincing smile, but it makes her give a watery laugh. 

“You don’t have to be in Captain mode right now, you’re allowed to not be okay.” 

About to reply, Matt’s stopped when April comes in with two syringes. She sets them down, then takes his line gently, not tugging on it, for which the man is grateful. 

“Alright, let’s get some of the zofran in you. It’ll help with the nausea,” the woman supplies, administering the dose into the line that’s inserted into his arm. She flushed it with saline from the second syringe. “Okay, give it a few minutes to take effect, but it should help. Let us know if you need more.” 

“We’re going to keep you overnight for monitoring, and unless you have a rebound reaction, you should be able to head home tomorrow,” Will adds, then smiles and turns to leave. 

When they’re alone, Matt coughs quietly, then looks at the paramedic next to him. 

“Sorry if I scared you.” He’s not exactly sure what’s happened, but he gathers it’s because of eating pineapple somehow. 

At the words, Sylvie gives a snort and shakes her head. “I don’t care about that, all I care about is that you’re safe and okay. Was it terrifying? Absolutely. But you’re alright, and that’s what matters honey.” 

It’s true. Sylvie’s seen dozens and dozens of anaphylactic reactions over the course of her time being a paramedic. Nothing has ever phased her like this. Not only was it  _ Matt _ , but it’s also one of the worst she’s ever seen. She presses a kiss to his hair. 

“Just rest okay? I’ll be here. I’m just going to tell everyone you’re okay.” 

Matt looks up at her, feeling a bit surprised. “Everyone’s here?” Talking makes him cough, and Sylvie rubs carefully at his shoulder. 

“Yeah, Boden took the house out of service. It was a really bad reaction Matt….” 

Looking like she’s ready to cry again, Matt squeezes her hand tiredly. “Love you.” 

“Love you too sweetheart. Do you want to see Severide? Or just rest?” 

Shrugging, too tired to try and talk anymore with how sore his throat is, Sylvie nods. He wants to see his best friend, but he’s not sure he has the energy to deal with all of Severide and his worry and dramatics right now. 

“I’ll go talk to them.” With one more squeeze of her hand, Sylvie moves out of the small room and over to the waiting area, where the entirety of 51 is waiting. 

Approaching, everyone looks up. Severide and Kidd are sitting as close as they can to each other, Herrmann pauses his pacing, and Boden’s standing, shoulders tense. 

“He’s okay. He’s kind of groggy and his throat’s wrecked, but he’ll be alright. They’re keeping him overnight in case of a rebound, but if all goes well he’ll be out tomorrow.” Stella stands and hugs her tightly, and everyone visibly relaxes. Sylvie talks to Boden a minute, and the decision to put everyone but ambo back in service is made. Mackey hitches a ride with truck back to the house, and Sylvie’s left with strict instructions to call with any updates. 

Matt’s eyes are shut when she gets back into his room. He’s pale and still blotchy, his lips are just slightly swollen. Sitting in the chair next to him, Sylvie pulls it as close as she can, then grabs his hand, head resting on his shoulder. Maybe one day life and death things will stop happening to her boyfriend, she can hope, at least. For now though, he’s alright all things considered, and that’s more than she can ask for.


End file.
